It's A Wonderful Life, Harry Potter
by Midnight Sky Tie
Summary: It's A Wonderful Life, Harry Potter style. Written before the release of Deathly Hallows, Harry Potter spends a miserable Christmas alone on his hunt for Horcruxes, until Nymphadora Tonks shows him what the Wizarding World would've been like without him.


Christmas had never been very pleasant for Harry, even during his Hogwarts days. They were a constant reminder of what he didn't have. But now, at the age of seventeen, as he camped alone deep in a Scottish forest in search of the final Horcrux, he was beginning to realise that maybe the Christmases of the past hadn't been so horrid after all.

The crackling of the fire was the only company he had as snow fell softly to the ground. He poked at the embers, hoping for them not to go out before he got to sleep. It'd been a long day of searching, and while Apparating back to Grimmauld Place had been an option, he'd been afraid of not finding this place again—or at least that's what he'd sent in his Patronus as an excuse for not coming back. Therefore, his Christmas Eve was spent lost in the woods, with only a pup tent, a sleeping bag, and a few well-placed heating charms for comfort. The pitiful fire hardly counted.

Climbing into the pup tent, he toed off his boots before crawling into his sleeping bag. Closing his eyes, as he fell into an exhausted sleep, he wished he could see the stars. They reminded him of Sirius and, more recently, Dumbledore and Ron.

They'd all been his fault—first Sirius, with his inability and refusal to learn Occlumency; then Dumbledore, which wasn't really his fault, but he couldn't help but blame himself anyway; and then Ron. If it hadn't have been for Harry and his stupid scheme to find these bloody Horcruxes, Ron would still be alive. If Harry had just held out and refused to let Ron and Hermione help him, Mrs. Weasley wouldn't have lost her son.

"They weren't your fault, Harry."

The familiar voice jolted him out of his sleep, and Harry sat up straight, blinking rapidly. Sitting at the foot of the sleeping bag, her legs crossed Indian-style and her hair her usual shade of bubblegum pink, was Tonks.

"How did you—" he started to say, but Tonks shook her head.

"Their deaths, Harry. They weren't your fault, and you'd do well to remember that."

"Oh yeah?" said Harry, annoyed she seemed to be able to read his thoughts. "They'd have lived a lot longer if it hadn't have been for me. Sirius and Dumbledore, they were protecting me, and Ron—he only died because he was my friend. Because I let him come with me in the first place."

"D'you really think that, Harry?" said Tonks, setting her chin in the palm of her hand. "That they'd have been better off without you?"

"The whole bloody world would've been better off without me," said Harry. "They'd have had Neville instead, wouldn't they?"

Tonks arched an eyebrow.

"He's better than you think," said Harr. "Either way, he wouldn't have been stupid enough to lead Sirius into the Department of Mysteries, would he? And he certainly wouldn't have led Cedric to his death, or let Voldemort get his hands on him in order to come back from the dead—"

"Take my hand."

Harry blinked, focusing on her offered hand. "Why?"

"Just do it."

He did as he was told, although grudgingly. The instant he had a firm grip, he felt the familiar tightening of Apparition, and immediately kicked himself for trusting her.

When he opened his eyes, they were back at Grimmauld Place. He frowned. "I don't want to be here, Tonks. Do you have any idea how long it took me to find that spot?"

"I know," she said simply, not letting go of his hand. "I promise to bring you back exactly to that spot."

Harry sighed his disbelief, slumping his shoulders. Just as he was about to speak, however, he heard footsteps thundering down the steps. Looking up at the landing, he frowned when he saw Bill Weasley coming down, looking worse for the wear.

"Hi, Bill," he said as Bill landed in the foyer. To his surprise, Bill didn't even acknowledge he was there. Harry frowned. "Bill?"

"Don't bother," said Tonk, tugging his hand so they were following Bill. "He can't hear you."

"Why can't he hear me?"

"You said everything would be better if you'd never been born," said Tonk. "Well, this is how things would be."

Harry stared at her as they started down the steps leading into the kitchen. "You're joking."

"Am not. See, look."

They entered the kitchen and, unable to stop himself, Harry gasped. Sitting next to each other at the long dining room table was a dark-haired man in his late thirties, and next to him a woman with long red hair, her face pale and drawn.

His parents.

"Those—those are my parents," he said shakily, letting go of Tonks' hand and walking slowly up to them. Much like Bill, they didn't seem to see him at all. He twisted his head around to look at Tonks. "How did you—"

"Magic," said Tonks, tapping the side of her nose. "Oh—and here's Remus."

Harry looked at the entrance again, this time to see Remus Lupin walk through the door. Unlike the real Remus, this one was dressed in robes that looked as if they were actually new, and his face bore fewer scars, fewer wrinkles. He looked like a younger man.

"He's happier, isn't he?" said Harry, staring as Remus made his way around the table to join his mother and father. "They're all happier. They're _alive_."

"They are," said Tonks, tilting her head. "I don't know about happier though." She was watching Remus with an odd expression on her face, one Harry couldn't quite decipher.

Harry tore his eyes from his parents in order to look around the kitchen. Something was off, that much he could tell, but it wasn't until he looked at the stove that he realised what it was. Instead of Mrs. Weasley standing at the stove, as she so often did, a black-haired witch was cooking. Harry inhaled deeply. It certainly didn't smell anything like Mrs. Weasley's cooking.

"That's Hestia Jones, isn't it?" said Harry, his focus shifting back to his parents. Remus was moving again, this time towards Hestia. When he reached her, he set his hand on her shoulder, which Hestia immediately shrugged off.

"Don't, Remus," she hissed. Harry gave Tonks a startled look. She merely shrugged.

Remus dropped his hand as if he'd been burned. "I was only going to ask you if you wanted any help."

Hestia turned to him, reaching up to tuck her hair behind her ear. That was when Harry noticed the wedding ring. His eyes widened as he looked at Remus' left hand. They were _married_?

"Well, I don't want any," Hestia snapped, taking a small step away from him as she stirred the stew that was cooking. "Go back to Lily."

Harry took an involuntary step back as he heard his mother's name being spoken with such venom. He immediately looked at his mother and father, both of whom looked as if they were trying very, very hard not to pay attention to the conversation between Remus and Hestia.

"Tonks?" said Harry in a shaky voice. "What's going on? Where are you?"

Tonks walked up next to him, her arms crossed over her chest as she watched the scene in front of them with a sort of detached interest. "Remus was in love with Lily while they were at Hogwarts. Even after she married James, he harboured feelings for her. It destroyed him when she and your father were killed, but he eventually learned to live with it." She gave Harry a sideways glance. "This time, he married Hestia in the late eighties in an attempt to forget about your mum. He tried to make himself love her like he loved Lily, but I'm afraid it never worked."

"Then why are they still together?"

"They won't be for long," said Tonks. "Hestia's sleeping with Bill."

Harry's mouth dropped open. "With Bill?"

Tonks looked at him again. "What? Bill's rather handsome, Harry. Especially without the scars."

Harry's focus snapped to Bill, who was sitting at the other end of the table, watching the scene between Remus and Hestia openly. "He was never attacked by Greyback. He isn't a werewolf."

"He wasn't," Tonks confirmed. "Remus still is, of course—I'm afraid that's something that wouldn't have been changed." She gave him a sad look, although as soon as Harry opened his mouth to say something, it was gone, and she was looking at him as if silently challenging him to speak. He let it drop.

Harry was silent for a long moment, trying to understand what he was seeing. "Why are you showing this to me?" he said quietly. "Everyone's loads better off. My mum and dad, Bill—even Remus. He's wearing good robes."

"Robes aren't everything," said Tonks, and then she fell silent, as if waiting for Harry to say something else. As he watched the five people in the kitchen move about, the emptiness of the room suddenly hit him.

"Tonks? Where's everyone else?"

"Sirius is upstairs," she said softly. "He's also married, with about five illegitimate children—that's me exaggerating, Harry, don't worry, it's only two—and his first legitimate one on the way."

"To who?" Harry frowned as he looked up at the ceiling in vain.

"A Muggle-born," said Tonks with a shrug. "He's happy."

"He never went to Azkaban, did he?" said Harry, realisation dawning on him.

"He never did." Tonks looked down at her hands. "He's had a good life. He's had his share of grave injuries and battles and scars, but he is happy."

Harry swallowed tightly. This is what Sirius would've had, had it not been for him. A good life. He'd have been happy instead of holed up in a cave eating rats, and later holed up in a house he hated, alone and miserable and drinking too much. Harry crossed his arms over his chest and closed his eyes.

"What about everyone else?" He took a deep breath. "Ron and Hermione and everyone?"

He felt Tonks set her hand on his back. "There is no one else, Harry. They're all gone."

His eyes flew open and he stared at her. "Gone?" he managed in a strangled voice. "What do you mean, gone? Where's Mr and Mrs Weasley and Ron and Ginny and Fred and George and Charlie and Hermione and Dumbledore and—and Neville and Mr and Mrs Longbottom and—and—" He stopped. "Where are they?"

"Come on, Harry," said Tonks, slipping her hand in the crook of his elbow, tugging at him slightly. "Let's go upstairs."

He shot one last longing, painful look at his parents, and then at a handsome Bill and Remus, before he followed Tonks upstairs. Instead of returning to the foyer, they made their way to the living room, which was decorated sparsely with garland and holly and covered wall-to-wall with framed pictures. Tonks led him to one that held nearly three dozen Order members, each waving and smiling in the picture. It was different from the one that Moody had shown him. This time there were children in the picture.

"This is the last picture of the Weasleys that was ever taken," said Tonks softly, her hand still tucked in Harry's arm. "Ron had just celebrated his fourth birthday—see him there?" She pointed to the spot in the picture where a four-year-old Ron sat, his hair standing up at all angles and a wide grin on his chubby face. "Voldemort killed the lot of them himself. Ginny first, then Ron and the twins and Percy and Charlie. He made Mr and Mrs Weasley watch."

Harry felt his throat constrict in horror. "Voldemort's still—still alive?"

"Still alive," said Tonks. "And stronger than ever. The Order—or what's left of it—is in hiding here. He overtook the Ministry for Magic over a decade ago. Since then, half the wizarding population's been slaughtered."

Harry had to close his eyes as a wave of dizziness washed over him. "Neville—Neville failed?"

"I'm not quite sure it's fair, saying a fifteen-month-old baby failed," said Tonks gently. "But he was killed that night, along with his parents."

Harry stumbled backwards, and Tonks held onto him tightly, just managing to guide him to the sofa before he collapsed. "Neville's dead."

"I'm sorry," said Tonks, rubbing his back soothingly. "But yes, Neville wasn't able to do what you did. He couldn't survive."

Harry flushed when he realised he was fighting back tears. "And—and Bill? Why he is still…?"

"Bill was a second-year at Hogwarts," said Tonks. "Charlie was going to enter Hogwarts that September. But Bill wasn't at the Burrow when it happened."

He felt bile rise in his throat. "His entire family—"

"Gone," said Tonks simply. "He turned out all right, in spite of it all. Your parents took him in."

Harry was silent for a long moment. "And Dumbledore?"

Tonks took a deep breath. "Killed in 1994. Nearly took out Voldemort in the process as well, but in the end, Voldemort was younger, stronger, and faster. He died protecting your parents."

Closing his eyes, Harry felt a hot tear run down his cheek. This wasn't fair.

"He died anyway," he said quietly. "Him and Ron—they still died."

"They did," she said. "Ron was four. You gave him thirteen years more, you know. And a best friend. And acceptance for who he was. He wasn't just another Weasley to you, you know, and that made you something special. And you weren't just Harry Potter to him, either. You two were always meant to be best friends, I think, if such a thing as destiny exists." She smiled a little. "You gave him thirteen wonderful years. You gave him the chance to fall in love, to get snogged properly, to get shagged—all of that. And he died helping you. He died making the world a better place. He'd have died for you a thousand times over, Harry. You know that."

Harry sniffed loudly. "It's not bloody fair."

"You're right, it's not," Tonks agreed softly. "It's not fair at all. But that's life, Harry. Some people are meant for long, full lives, others are meant for short ones. But it's often the short ones that make the greatest amount of difference. D'you get what I'm saying?"

He nodded miserably, looking back up at the picture. He swallowed as the four-year-old Ron grinned at him and waved furiously. "What about Hermione?"

"She's living as a Muggle. She doesn't know the wizarding world exists."

"She didn't go to Hogwarts?" said Harry, frowning.

"Hogwarts hasn't accepted Muggle-borns since Voldemort took over the Ministry," said Tonks, tucking her pink hair behind her ears. "And even before that, the Ministry stopped sending out acceptance letters to Muggle-borns. It was too dangerous for them, you know. But she's happy," she added. "She knows she's different, and she's always been an outsider amongst Muggles, but she's happy. Top of her class, planning on attending Oxford. She'll do well in life."

Harry took a deep, shuddering breath. "That's—good," he said, relieved that she wasn't in any danger. "Really good."

"Is it?" said Tonks, giving him a curious look. "She's ignorant to who she really is. She'll probably never know. And she'll spend her whole life wondering why she can never quite fit in. While strange things happen around her. And she'll never know you or Ron or learn about magic. It's a loss for the wizarding world as a whole, I think, and a loss for her, too."

Sighing, Harry slumped back against the couch, his eyes still glued on the portrait. "Everyone else is dead?"

"Everyone else is dead." Tonks was silent a moment before adding, "Killed in the line of duty, or killed unexpectedly in their homes while they were sleeping. Hagrid, Moody, Arabella, Kingsley, everyone."

Harry looked at her. "You never answered me before."

"Answered you about what?" she said distantly, her gaze focused on the photographs.

"What happened to you?"

She looked at him, her dark eyes clouded. She gave him a small smile. "I died when I was ten," she said simply. "My mother was a blood-traitor. It was bound to happen."

The ease with which she'd said this startled Harry. "You're dead?"

"I'm dead. I never got to Hogwarts. It was rather gruesome, the whole thing—I'll spare you the details. But at the end of it all, I died."

Harry swallowed tightly again, blinking rapidly. He didn't know what to say.

"That's why Remus is with Hestia?"

Tonks nodded. "That and the fact that they married before I was even of age. I think that might've had something to do with it." She shot him a smile. "I know it might not look like it, Harry, but Remus is happier with you alive. He's gone through hell, but he has you, and that's more than he's got here."

"And he has you," said Harry with a frown as he still tried to contemplate it all. "He's happy with you."

"I know he is," said Tonks softly. "And I love him for it." She looked down at her hands, still smiling. "He's going to propose, you know. I found the ring in his jacket pocket the other day."

Harry forced a smile. "Congratulations."

"Thanks," she said. "I've been trying to convince him to do it for months. He's been insisting it's too soon—and he's right, it was, by conventional standards, but we hardly fit convention anyway. And we make each other happy. That's more than anyone can really ask for at this point."

Harry was silent for a long time. When he finally spoke, he saw that Tonks had closed her eyes. She looked happy.

"My mum and dad live," he mumbled. "Sirius lives. Are you really going to tell me that that isn't worth it? That they don't deserve to live just because I do?"

It was a long moment before Tonks answered. "No," she finally said. "But you have to understand, Harry—you're the reason their lives were so full to begin with. Without you, their lives are empty. They're stuck. They have nowhere to go now, except to run away, and even then, the Death Eaters and Voldemort will hunt them down and kill them no matter where they go. This life they have, it isn't a life. It's a prison. Sirius is no better off than he was before, not really, not when you think about it. He has no more freedom than he did when he was alive in the real world. He has less, really, because here everyone knows about his Animagus status. Everyone knows about your father's as well. They're stuck. They've been stuck here for years. They cope with it, but it's no life, Harry. At least with you, their lives were meaningful."

Harry closed his eyes. "And Ron—"

"Ron is dead either way," said Tonks, her words blunt but her voice gentle. "You made his life worth living, too. He's a hero because of you. A true Gryffindor."

Sliding his fingers underneath his glasses, Harry rubbed his eyes. "I think I'd like to go back now, Tonks."

"All right." She took his hand again. After a moment, Harry felt the familiar sensation of Apparition again, and by the time it faded, he was back in the pup tent. When he opened his eyes, however, Tonks wasn't there.

"Tonks?" he said, sitting up. Outside it was silent. The fire had burned out. He was alone.

Harry didn't waste any time. Kicking off his sleeping bag, he pulled on his wet boots and stumbled outside, brushing the wet snow from his glasses. Grasping his wand in one hand, he closed his eyes and turned, Apparating to the one place he wanted to be.

When he opened his eyes again, he was standing in the foyer of Grimmauld Place. Tugging off his wet scarf, he hung it on the cloak rack, and then he toed off his boots again. As he did so, Bill came bounding down the stairs, but this time he grinned when he saw Harry.

"'Lo there, mate," he said, stopping to stretch when he reached the foyer. "Glad to see you. Mum was upset you weren't going to make it. She'll be thrilled to see you."

Harry grinned. "Yeah? I'll be glad to see her, too."

Bill laughed. "She's downstairs making pudding, if you want any. Chocolate something or another."

"Sounds great," said Harry, and the two started down the hallway, with Harry trailing after Bill. He'd never been so relieved to see scars before in his life.

When they reached the kitchen, the first thing Harry saw was Mrs Weasley standing at the stove. He inhaled deeply. It smelled wonderful.

"Mum, Harry's here," said Bill as he took a seat at the opposite end of the table, just where he'd been sitting in Harry's dream. Without warning Mrs Weasley spun around, pudding-covered wand still in hand.

"Harry!" she said happily, bustling over to give him a tight hug. "Happy Christmas! I was so worried about you when you said you couldn't make it, but here you are, and—"

"Harry?"

Harry turned his head just enough to see Remus Lupin grinning at him from his spot at the kitchen table. Molly let go, and Harry faced Remus—who was sitting next to Tonks.

"Change of plans," explained Harry, looking back and forth between the two. Tonks' hair was pink, and there was a silly sort of smile on Remus' face. "All right?"

Tonks smiled. "All right." She propped her chin up in her left hand, and Harry caught side of a ring. Remus' silly grin suddenly made sense. Harry laughed.

"Congratulations," he said, to which Molly immediately said, "Congratulations for what?"

Tonks held up her hand for Molly to see, and suddenly the kitchen burst to life again. Molly squealed just as Ginny and Hermione came bounding down the steps into the kitchen, and they started to squeal as well. After them came Fred and George and Charlie, and from the top of the steps Moody shouted, "What's all the commotion?"

Amidst it all, Harry just smiled, watching the crowd grow around them. Glancing at Tonks again, he saw her give him a wink. His smile stretched to a grin as he winked back.

Yes, this was exactly where he wanted to be.


End file.
